Page 66 of One More Made Up Love Song
“That’s right,” Adam says, clearly picking up on our conversation. “Congrats to both of you.”
My stomach sinks as I make eye contact with Freddie. I assumed he would tell his friends the truth, though I’m not at all surprised he hasn’t had the time to do it yet. We’ve barely had time to process things ourselves.
But I really,reallywish I didn’t have to be here for the conversation. I don’t know why, exactly. Maybe because I don’t want anyone’s pity. And in my head, that’s what people will feel when they find out I’mnotdating one of the world’s most beloved music artists.
They’ll feel sorry for me.
Freddie lifts a hand to the back of his neck. “Yeah, about that,” he says, looking at each of his friends. “We aren’t actually dating.”
I’m standing closest to Laney, so it’s impossible to miss the flash of disappointment in her eyes as Freddie tells thestory of what happened at Margot’s and how one impulsive kiss landed us in the middle of an unintentional publicity stunt.
“And you’re okay with all this?” Laney asks, her voice low enough that only I can hear.
I swallow against the sudden knot in my throat and do my best to feign indifference. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
In a different setting, I would probably tell Laney everything. We spent a lot of time together last year, and we’ve been texting ever since. Not all the time, but enough for me to know her concern—her friendship—is genuine.
But I can’t have this conversation right now.
I can’t unpack my heart and explain how complicated my feelings are. Not when Freddie and his three closest friends are standing on the other side of the room.
Laney nods, but she hardly looks convinced.
“It’s just the nature of the industry,” Freddie says. “But we’re handling it. Ivy is being a very good sport.”
“I should say so,” Leo says. “Putting up with your ugly face.” He turns and looks at me. “What are you getting out of the deal, Ivy?”
I think of the demand I made—my insistence that I would help Freddie if he would help me land a job with his label. It was an impulsive request when I made it. A desperate attempt at self-preservation. As if I sensed that if Ididgo through with the fake relationship, escaping might be my only means of survival.
But standing here among Freddie’s closest friends, it almost feels heartless to declare my only motivation for agreeing to the scheme wasleavingFreddie and working somewhere else. “Oh, um…”
“We’re still working out the details,” Freddie says, savingme from having to answer. “Now.” He claps Jace on the back. “Do I get to hold the baby? Or is that against the rules?”
It’s an obvious deflection, one that makes my shoulders sag with relief. The conversation shifts to Jace and his kids, but I feel Freddie’s focus on me, making my skin hum with quiet energy. When I look up to meet his gaze, I can practically hear his voice in my head.
Are you okay?
I nod once, hoping he senses my gratitude. His mouth lifts into a small smile, then his attention is pulled away when Jace lowers baby Eli into his arms.
Freddie’s eyes brighten, his delight utterly unabashed as he smiles at Eli, who reaches up and pats Freddie’s cheeks, then smiles in return.
Oh. Oh, this is not good.
Freddie holding a baby? What sort of inexplicable torture is this? I’ve always been one to scoff at talk of biological clocks, but my body is having a visceral reaction right now, like my ovaries are ringing some sort of bell announcing their approval.
When I was little, my mother had a pair of peafowl on her rescue farm. At first, I didn’t understand what triggered the peacock to lift his feathers, to unfurl the shimmering hues of turquoise and blue. Then my mother explained the mating ritual, the peacock’s desire to impress his peahen with all that gorgeous plumage. I’m not sure I fully understood then, but I definitely do now.
Mom’s peahen needed fancy blue feathers and an elaborate mating dance. Apparently, I just need to see Freddie Ridgefield holding a blond-haired baby with big blue eyes and a dimple in his left cheek.
“You okay?” Laney asks. She tugs her arm gently, and Ilook down only to realize I’ve been squeezing her elbow with a vise-like grip. I quickly let go, smoothing my palms down the sides of my jeans.
“Sorry,” I quickly say. “I don’t…” My words trail off, eyes still glued to Freddie as he bounces Eli and makes him laugh.
“Girl, I get it,” Laney says, breathing out a sigh. Jace has his daughter, Annie, in his arms, and Adam is playing a game with her, making her giggle. “Watching handsome men play with babies is its own kind of drug.”
The kids only last a few more minutes before Jace’s mom comes and takes them upstairs to get ready for bed. But it’s not long before the rest of us are ready to call it a night too. Freddie makes plans to head to the studio with the guys early the next morning, and I hang around, wondering if he’ll want me to go with him. It’s the kind of thing I normallywoulddo, but I have no idea how to handle my regular work responsibilities now that I’malsopretending to be his girlfriend. Not that we’re pretending here, when we’re in his house with only friends and family surrounding us, but it still feels like something has shifted.
I don’t want to let Freddie down, so I swallow against the knot in my throat and stop him before he disappears into his bedroom for the night.
